The Medic's Apprentice
by Faecat
Summary: When Sunstreaker had gone too far one too many times, where does Ratchet go to get some help in doling out a bit of punishment?  The local auto shop.  Rated for some language.  One shot.


Jason wasn't quite sure what to think of the surly man that had come bursting into his shop like he owned the place. He was in his early forties, easy, and had a peppering of gray hair in his otherwise dark auburn, neatly kept, short hair. His alarmingly blue eyes were hard as steel and as cold as ice and his voice was that of too much yelling and years of stress.

"I expect your best mechanic to work on my car, no body else," he growled.

"Well, sir, all of our mechanics are ASE certified technicians. They are the best." Jason pointed to a plaque proudly displayed on the wall proclaiming just the same. "All of our guys will treat your car with the utmost respect, I guarantee it."

"No disrespect to you, youngin', but I'll be the judge of that. I want to see the mechanics before I decide whether or not this is where I'll have that troublemaker worked on here or not."

"Sir, that's a little..."

"I know, it's out of the ordinary and you can't do that for all of your customers and whatever other slag you wanna spout." The older man waved his hand dismissively. "I got it. Don't worry, the pay will be well worth the trouble."

"We don't charge more than..."

"The cost of parts plus labor, just like every other slaggin' shop in this run down town," the man finished for him. "I got that too. Just believe me when I say it'll be worth your trouble. Now, trot 'em out here. I'd like to get him in sooner rather than later."

This was just too much. Jason wasn't sure he even wanted to deal with this guy – he was pushy, and snippy, and just plain rude. However, glancing over the man's shoulder to the _very nice_ Ferrari parked across three parking slots just outside the door, he assumed the man was like that for a good reason. After all, that was an expensive car.

With a heavy sigh he nodded and waved the man to follow him. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you out to the shop and you can see the guys at work."

"That will do." The man looked back at his car, some odd look in his eye that Jason couldn't quite place – and he was usually so good at reading people – before nodding and following along.

Once they entered the shop, everyone looked up from their various tasks to see who was invading their workspace. Most went right back to whatever they were doing, caring little that the big boss was escorting a customer through the shop. It wasn't unusual, even if the man had a far too appraising look about him.

"This is Chris," Jason introduced the mechanic closest to the door, patting the man on the shoulder as he spoke about him. Chris spared a short wave before diving back into the engine of his current project. "He's one of our senior mechanics, been with the business for fifteen years. He can do damn near anything on damn near any vehicle out there."

"Humf," was the mans only reply.

Moving on to the next man in line, a young blond man that looked far too happy to meet the customer his boss was walking around. "Joe!" The boy introduced as he held his recently wiped but still grimy hand out to the man. "I'm new around here but I've got skills," he promised. Joe's smile wavered slightly when the man didn't take his offered hand, but he assumed it was because of the dirt gathered there. "Sorry," he apologized as he wiped at it some more.

"Joe is shortly out of college but he's showing he's worth his weight around here. He's a very trustworthy guy."

"No," the man stated flatly before walking right past the young man. He passed right by three other mechanics before stopping, someone having caught his eye.

Jason came to stand beside him, trying to see who this picky old man had found interesting enough to watch. His search turned to the only female in the shop. "Oh, that's Heather. She's pretty good. A little green, like Joe; she's been here for a while longer though. Let me introduce you to Steve. He's been here for five years and has a rather nice record of restoration as well as..." the man wasn't listening to Jason, obviously, as he walked across the shop to where Heather was standing in front of her tool box, almost obsessively cleaning and organizing every tool within. "Hey!" Jason called as he chased after the man. Walking out into the open area of the shop was dangerous if you weren't familiar with the area; cars came in and went out at quick paces and not all the drivers paid attention to just who was strolling across the area. All the other mechanics knew to get out of the way, but a customer probably wouldn't even know what hit him.

"Heather?" The man almost barked her name as he came up behind her.

Heather turned with a look that clearly stated she didn't approve of being addressed so harshly, but covered it as soon as she realized the man calling her was a customer. "Yes, sir, how may I help you?"

The man looked her over a little more attentively than either Heather or Jason thought was necessary before giving a short nod and holding out his hand. "My name is Rick Johnson. I would like you to work on my car."

"I'm sure you would," Heather grumbled, but took the man's offered hand none the less.

Her hands were covered in stains from the grime of her trade, but he showed no hesitance toward the filth. Nor did he remark on the smears of grease and dirt on her face, or the way her hair was falling out of the bandanna she had tied around her head to keep it out of the way.

Jason gave the man's back a rather scathing look. It wasn't that he didn't think Heather could work on this 'Rick Johnson's' car, or that she wouldn't do a good job. He didn't approve of the way the man had seemingly selected the mechanic for the job. Heather was a curvy girl and even the unflattering navy uniform of the shop couldn't hide that. A lot of men had made less than amiable passes at her because of her chosen profession and while Heather seemed to have no problems in ignoring the slights against her, Jason didn't approve. She was a good employee and she worked hard to earn the respect she deserved.

"I expect excellence," Rick went on after the initial greeting was through. "I am very picky about who I will let work on my cars; normally I would do it myself but I simply don't have time to deal with this one. I selected you because I noticed the way you care for your tools. Anyone who is that heedful of their tools is bound to be that attentive to the vehicle they are working on. Am I right?"

Heather looked a little dumbfounded, but nodded.

"Right, so I expect that you will take excellent care of my car – no matter the trouble he gives you?"

"Of course, sir..."

"Rick."

"Rick..." she corrected. "What is it you want to have done? I mean, I have some good experience but I'm hardly the best..."

"You're exactly what I'm looking for in an assistant...a mechanic to do the work I don't have time for," Rick stated confidently. "It's all simple things, not that I don't have faith you would do better with more complicated work, but for this one? I just want the tires rotated, oil changed, filters checked and a through once over. Do that for me and you'll be seeing more of me and my cars."

"Okay..." she still seemed a little thrown by the man, but felt placated for his approach at the very least. "So where is this important-car-you-have-no-time for?"

"Out front," he tossed the woman a set of keys, smiling at her. "He's trouble, keep an eye on him."

"Right..."

Rick turned back to Jason with a smile and a nod. "I believe there is paperwork to be done?"

"Yes," Jason agreed. He glanced back at Heather before following the man back to the front. "You okay with this?"

"Yeah, I got it. Picky old man is picky." She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Probably just wants to say he had some girl crawling over his old car."

"It's a Ferrari," Jason stated flatly. "New."

"You're shittin' me!"

"Nope."

Heather was gone in a flash to seek out the car she had been 'selected' to work on, leaving Jason to tend to the 'picky old man'. Jason laughed at the expected reaction and retreated to the front to handle the paperwork. Maybe the old man didn't have the best way about doing things, but he had certainly made Heather's day so that had to count for something.

Reaching the front of the building, Heather instantly spotted the car in question. It was an eye catching gold Ferrari 458 Italia and just looking at it she knew it was in mint condition.

"Ooooh, baby," she purred at the vehicle as she approached it. She didn't dare touch it with her dirty hands, no matter how much she wanted to. Still, her hand hovered a breath away from the surface, mock petting the car as she paced around it, taking in the full image and searching for any damage. As expected, there was none, however the car itself was warm; heat rolled off of it in soft waves.

After she was done with her inspection of the car, she headed back in to grab the protective covers for the interior.

"Spotless," she noted to Jason as she stepped by him, letting him know there were no marks or dents or any other damage on the car that they should note before bringing it into the shop.

Rick merely gave a snort, seeming as though he were a little put out by the statement. "I'm sure you'll be nice to him," he said in a confident voice. "I'm not worried about a scratch or two."

"You'll get your car back the same way it came in, if not better," Jason promises automatically.

Rick laughed, some silent joke in his head presumably. "If you can make him come out better than he goes in, I will applaud you."

"I'll do my best," Heather promised, claiming the protective covers and heading back out to move the car into the shop. "Weird old man," she grumbled once she was past the door.

Quickly and carefully placing the covers over the steering wheel, seat and the mat on the floor, Heather climbed into the car and slid the key into the ignition. She held her breath for a moment before starting the engine, taking in the wonderfully immaculate interior; all soft black leather that was more supple than anything she could even imagine. Everything shone, or was buffed, to perfection. "Amazing," she whispered the word, finally releasing the breath she had been holding. Then she turned the key and the engine roared to life. "Oh, mama!" She practically groaned as the life of the engine rumbled through the whole car.

Nudging it into gear, she slowly accelerated around the building and into the shop, all but crawling into her bay. This car screamed for speed, but she demanded care and a slow pace. So once it was settled squarely into her work bay, she shut off the engine, rolled down the window and sat back to enjoy the car a little longer.

The guys in the shop were already gathering around the rare beauty, rude comments and all already being exchanged between them.

"Back off, buddies, this baby's mine!" Heather crowed as she popped the hood and climbed out.

"This is that old fart's car?" Joe asked, pure envy written in every aspect of his features.

"Yep," Heather placed the arms of the lift under the car, careful not to let any part of them bump or rub against the frame.

"And he wanted you to work on it?" Steve grumbled. "Old man's obviously lookin' to get us on something. You better be extra careful."

"Steve, you know me."

"Yeah, yeah, just sayin'." The man grumbled as he shook his head and walked away.

Once the lift arms were properly in place, she lifted them just enough to raise the tires off the floor before lifting the hood to see to the engine.

The guys all left as they had their fill of looking; Steve being the only one to say anything about Heather working on the car, but all of them were thinking it on some level. Even Heather was, to say the truth. Why, when there was a whole shop full of qualified male mechanics would a man pick the only female in the shop? Sure, he said it was because of how she kept her tools – there wasn't another toolbox in the shop as nicely kept as hers – but something about it just didn't seem right. She always took extra care to not damage a customers car, but this one she was down right paranoid about.

Looking over the engine, she couldn't help but to smile, an appreciative groan escaping her. Just like the exterior, and the interior, the engine was immaculate. She took her time checking all the fluids, exchanging the air filters and looking for any leaks or worn out parts before lifting the car to drain the oil and rotate the tires.

By this time, most of the guys had settled back into their jobs or gone in search of something to do somewhere else, the shop was quiet again.

Heather turned to her toolbox to get her impact gun and sockets so she could rotate the tires, but when she turned around to check the size of the socket against the lug nuts, the car was gone.

She stared at the raised arms of the lift as if they had betrayed her somehow. There was no way, _no way_, on Earth that the car could be gone. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of all the irrational yet terrifying things that could have happened to the car; it could have fallen off the lift – even though it wasn't there to be seen, and she hadn't heard anything – someone could have stolen it...how the Hell could have someone stolen without lowering the lift?

"What the _fuck!" _ She shouted as the impossibility of it all hit her. There was no logical reason for the lift to be barren of the car she had put there. She couldn't even fathom where she should start looking for the missing vehicle.

"What's goin' on, Heather?" Chris asked, climbing out of the engine he had practically buried himself in.

"My car is gone!"

"Gone?" He looked over to her bay and noted the lack of vehicle. "Where'd it go?"

"I have no clue! Where the Hell could it have gone? It was _just_ here!" She waved her hands to the raised arms of the lift as evidence.

"On the lift?"

She had to fight very hard not to just slam her head into one of the supporting legs of the lift. "Yes," she said in a too-calm voice, "_on_ the lift. I was just getting ready to rotate the tires."

"What happened?"

"If I knew I wouldn't be freaking out!"

"Well, it's not like it just disappeared," Steve coached from his bay. "Look around."

"But how did it get off the lift?" Chris asked.

"I don't know!" Heather huffed exasperatedly. "If Joe has anything to do with this..." she grumbled as she started storming around the shop looking for her missing car.

"If I had anything to do with what?" The young man asked as he came back into the shop from the front.

"My car is gone!"

Joe glanced at the bay where the golden Ferrari had been parked and easily noted it's absence. "Where'd it go?"

"I don't know!" Heather threw her arms up again. "This is fucking insane!"

"No one opened the doors," another man, Shane, offered from near the large garage doors.

"So, it's in here somewhere," Steve stated simply.

Heather glared at Steve, on a good day they tolerated each other – even joked around a bit – but anything but a good day usually had the two at each other's throats. This was not a good day. "You did this, didn't you?"

"Did what?"

"You moved my car!"

"Hardly. I have better things to do than to screw with you." He smiled though, thoroughly enjoying her aggravation. "I'm just glad it's not my ass on the line right now."

"You're an ass," she grumbled turning back to her search for the missing Ferrari.

"And you're a bi..."

"Steve!" Chris warned as he came to help the woman search for the car. This mystery had his full interest. Heather wasn't careless and a missing car was no joke. "Help us look for it."

"I've got better..."

"Help. Us. Look. Steve." Chris was usually pretty casual about things in the shop. He didn't like to get involved in the bickering of the other mechanics, and rarely got between Heather and Steve when they went at it, but this situation called for a little tact and authority. He was the lead mechanic here and no matter how lax he usually was, there was no arguing with him when he finally stepped up.

"Fine," the other man grumbled, moving around the shop pretending to look under things for the missing car.

"Here it is!" Joe called out finally from the other side of one of the tow trucks. "How did it get here?"

The tow trucks weren't moved often and sat in the far back corner of the shop to keep them out of the way of normal business. There really was no negotiating around them when both of them were parked – which they were – and definitely no way that a car could have gotten around them.

"I...don't know..." Heather came to stand beside Joe to likewise stare at the car nestled impossibly between the two trucks. The fit was so tight the sides of all three vehicles practically touched. "How am I supposed to get it out of there?"

Joe shrugged. "Very carefully?"

"I'll move the truck," Chris offered as he came upon the scene. This was just too much to believe. The car had somehow gotten off the lift and wedged between the tow trucks without anyone noticing? That wasn't possible...but he had seen the car up on the lift right before Heather had began her 'freak out' and knew damn well that this wasn't something anyone would have done just for fun. "Watch the car, hope I can do this without scratching it."

Now Heather was stressed, she admitted that, and she was a little out of her mind with this incident, but she could have sworn she had just seen the car shiver and lean away from the truck Chris was climbing into.

"I'll go put down the lift so you can drive her in," Joe offered as he backed away, seeming a little spooked himself.

"Right," Heather sighed, waving Chris forward as he pulled the tow truck out of it's spot.

By the grace of whatever being looked over beautiful cars, the Ferrari wasn't scratched in their efforts to free it from it's peculiar placement.

Heather tried to get inside the car once the tow truck was away from it, only to find the door locked. "Oh you've _got_ to be kidding me!"

"What now?" Steve asked as he sat unhelpfully on the bed of the second truck watching everything with amusement.

"It's _locked_!"  
>Steve laughed, much to Heather's aggravation. She stormed away to find the tools she needed to release the lock from the outside. "Obnoxious prick," she mumbled.<p>

When she returned with tools in hand Steve took the hints that he was very much unwelcomed and went on about his business.

"You want some help?" Chris asked, looking over the car to make sure nothing had happened to it.

"No, I've picked a few locks before...thanks though." Touching the long rod to the window, Heather pulled at the soft rubber seal at the base to make room for the tool, only to hear the distinctive sounds of the locks disengaging. "Oookay..."

"That works," Chris commented, studying the car as if it were some anomaly he was trying to comprehend.

"I guess so," Heather agreed, popping the door open and climbing inside. "You want to watch the other side, make sure I don't nick the truck?" This time she _felt_ the car shiver. For some reason, she felt compelled to talk to it as she turned the key. "Don't worry, baby. I won't let anything happen to you, you're way too pretty for that." The engine roared to life with a little more power than it had the first time and the car practically lurched from its place before she even had it in gear. "Woah! Don't strip your gears, babe...I can't afford to pay for you." Now, talking to cars wasn't unusual; everyone in the shop did it, but Heather sometimes felt like the cars responded in kind. This one, however, made her believe it was responding to her words. The engine settled into a soft purr as she shifted it into gear and crept from the spot, Chris carefully watching the other side of the car and waving her forward until she was clear.

When the car was once more squared in her bay, Heather made a point of rolling down the window before getting out. It was standard procedure, just in case the car's locking mechanisms were timed, or faulty, or for whatever accidental reason that might leave the mechanic locked out with the keys inside – she was sure she had done it before, but couldn't recall. This time she was absolutely sure it wouldn't happen again.

Joe helped her get the arms back under the car and soon enough the Ferrari was back where it had been before the mysterious vanishing act. Grabbing her impact gun she grabbed a few sockets she assumed the lug nuts would be within range of, all the while keeping one eye on the car. "I don't know what in the world happened there, buddy," she whispered to the golden flank as she prepared to remove the tires, "but don't do it again. I'm pretty sure you cut several years off of my life and it's already short enough as it is."

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, the lug nuts came off easily enough and the tire easily slipped from the hub. With as much care as she could muster, Heather placed the tire on the floor and moved on to the next one. There was the strangest keening sound, she thought, coming from the car somewhere. She paused to listen for it again but there was nothing but the noise in the shop.

"Okay, I'm going insane. Nothing new," she mumbled, pulling off the second tire and placing it on the floor as well. Again, she heard the sound. "Or, maybe not..."

Heather quickly checked the arms of the lift, then the locks, then the lift mechanisms to make sure the machine wasn't about to give out. Everything checked out all right, leaving her with the options of the sound either came from the car itself, or she was really losing it. She was leaning more towards she was losing it. It was far more logical. And less expensive.

Switching to the other side of the car, she repeated the process, removing the tires and placing them where they needed to go and then tightening all the tires back to snug on their new hubs. The sound reappeared a few more times during this routine but she astutely ignored it.

With a sigh of satisfaction, she cleaned and returned her tools to their proper place before raising the car further up.

"All right, babe; just a quick oil change and you can be on your way." The moment she placed a hand on the undercarriage, Heather knew she had lost whatever small claim on sanity she had left. The car trembled and...growled? Yeah, it was definitely something akin to a growl. "I promise I'll be gentle, baby." If she was going to be insane, she figured she might as well go all the way. "Just stay still and this will be over before you know it. Besides, you'll feel better with fresh oil and a clean filter. Imagine just how much better you'll run?" She checked the size of the oil pan nut before going back to her toolbox once more.

When she turned around again, Heather's heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach.

The car was still there, but it was no longer on the lift.

"What the Hell," she groaned walking up to the car. It was still square in her bay, but while the arms were exactly where she had left them, the car was sitting firmly on its own tires on the floor once more. "This is so not cool. You know, Rick is going to be _pissed_ that this is taking so long. And what am I going to tell him? 'Sorry, sir, but your car just wouldn't stay put?' Yeah, that's not crazy at all." With a heavy sigh, Heather released the locking pins and swung the arms back out on the lift before lowering it once more. "You're a big, beautiful, golden pain in my ass. You know that?"

With the lift arms back on the floor, Heather kicked them back into place under the Ferrari and made sure they were secure before raising the car once more.

"If you'd just stay still, we could get this over with and you wouldn't ever have to deal with me again. You know? I really don't get any of this. Fuck, I'm losing may damn mind is what I'm doing. Not only am I seeing a car magically move on its own...I'm scolding it for doing so. What the hell would my boss say? Shit, he'd probably fire me on the grounds of insanity."

"If he did that," Shane slapped her on the shoulder as he seemingly materialized out of nowhere to stand behind her, "he'd have to of fired the rest of us. Trust me, girl. You're not crazy. I saw that shit too. I don't know what's possessed this thing...but you should work fast and get it out of here before something really bad happens."

Heather had become accustomed to Shane's random appearances and his way of just inserting himself in whatever conversation he saw fit – even if it was one with yourself, or yourself and the car you were working on – but she still jumped at the contact of his hand on her shoulder. "Glad I'm not the only one who's lost it around here."

"Ha!" The man shook his head, a half manic grin climbing over his face. "You have to have it to lose it, my friend. No one around here ever had it, I promise. Still, get goin' on that thing, huh? It's creeping me out big time."

"Creeping you out? I'm the one working on it!"

"Better for me then, huh?"

Heather rolled her eyes and grabbed her tools. "Thanks a lot Shane."

Placing the oil drum under the car, she wrenched the plug out of place and let the hot oil drain. She hissed slightly when the fluid splashed against her arm, scalding the skin it touched. "Damn! Why the Hell are you so hot? Did Rick run the fricken Datona before bringing you in?"

Wiping the oil from her skin, she watched the rest of the fluid drain, checking color and consistency. The oil was dark, but not bad. Probably just run too long between changes. Then she checked the underside for any leaks or worn parts. Every time she touched the frame of the car – be it to test the tightness of a part, or to wipe away derbies to check for a leak – the car trembled and some odd noise came from somewhere she couldn't pin.

Once done with her inspection and the new filter and the oil plug were in place, she lowered the car back to the ground with great relief. She really didn't think she could handle another unexplainable relocation.

Grabbing her torque wrench and setting it to the appropriate weight, she kicked the lift arms out from under the car as she went around tightening the lug nuts to their proper specs. "There you go, babe. Now just to get your fresh oil and you're outta here."

"Hey! Heather!"

The woman spun at the sound of her boss' voice calling from across the shop. "What?"

"Special oil, or something...I don't know. Customer just dropped it off, said he figured you'd be getting about to that point. You haven't put oil in yet have you?"

"I was just getting there." Heather trotted across the shop to retrieve the bottle Jason held up for her. "What's this? I've never seen it before."

"I don't know, but the guy was very insistent. Said it was imported from somewhere and it was the only oil he'd ever put in his cars." Jason shrugged, eying the bright blue semi-translucent bottle filled with almost clear, oil-like fluid. "One of those weird things I guess."

"Right," she sighed again. "This all is turning out to be way more trouble than it's worth, you know? Beautiful car but..."

"But? Did something happen?" The list of horrible things that would cost him a fortune ran through Jason's head as he craned his neck to look at the expensive Ferrari parked in his shop.

"It...uh...you know what? No, nothing happened. Car's just fine, nothing to worry about." Heather smiled confidently and turned her back to Jason, already loosening the cap to the oil. "It's almost done, you can let Rick know to come pick up his car."  
>"Right..." Jason trusted Heather to tell him the truth, but he knew she wasn't at that moment. He knew enough to know that the car wasn't damaged – she would have come clean about that right away – but there was something not quite right. Scratching his head he turned back to the front, deciding that whatever it was he would find out in good time and it probably wasn't anything for him to worry about right now.<p>

Heather let her hand ghost over the car as she passed to grab a funnel. "Special brew for you, babe. Guess Rick's a very particular guy. No wonder you're in such great condition. Haven't met a guy this anal about his car yet; and trust me when I say I've met some pretty genuine assholes." Funnel in hand, the woman turned back to the car to find it shaking. "Seriously, you've got to stop that." She was overdue for lunch, so she was positive that she was imagining the shaking car. Had to be because cars didn't shake all on their own when their engines weren't running.

As the last drops of oil dripped from bottle to funnel, Heather felt relief that this job was finally done and she could forget the freaky car that had a talent for relocating itself. It might have been beautiful, but beauty only allotted for so much insanity, and this car passed that point by leaps and bounds.

Climbing back in the car, Heather reached for the keys only to have the engine turn over on its own. "No," she mumbled to herself, denying completely that what she _imagined_ just happened, hadn't _actually_ just happened. Then the car kicked itself into gear and started moving _on its own_.

Heather grabbed the steering wheel and slammed her foot down on the brake pedal in attempt to stop the car, but it kept on about its way as if she were doing nothing at all.

The apparently self driven Ferrari backed out of the stall, slid into drive and proceeded to exit the shop.

"Where the Hell are you going?"

Pulling out of the shop, the car crept through the parking lot before hitting the pavement of the road in front of the shop and taking off at speeds that were only not legal, but were plain not possible.

With Heather holding the steering wheel in a death grip, the car raced around the block a few times before pulling back into the parking lot and settling itself over three spaces and letting the engine die.

"Shit..." Heather breathed desperately around her heart beating fiercely in her throat.

The sudden appearance of a body framed by the window was the only thing to pull Heather's eyes from the front windshield.

"Gave you some trouble did he?" Rick was leaning on the window, looking Heather over. "Didn't do you any harm, did he?"

"N-n-not at all..." Heather peeled her fingers from the steering wheel, feeling the desperate need to get out of this possessed car right now. "No problems at all!" She insisted as she shoved the door open – with the help of Rick from the other side.

"Good! Glad to hear it. Looks like he's in good order," Rick closed the door and looked attentively over the vehicle. "Learned your lesson, Sunny?" He asked loudly.

"W-what...um..." Heather cleared her throat before trying again. "What is going on here?"

"Oh, sorry, Heather. I appreciate your work, you did great. I'm sorry for the trouble Sunny here caused you, because I know he didn't sit around peacefully while you worked – he never does – and I would like you to know that I watched everything and you have a very skilled hand."

"Okay...thank you?" Heather wasn't sure if she was creeped out by the compliment, or if she was relieved that the man seemed to understand the insanity she thought she had just been through.

With that Rick got into the Ferrari and took off.

Heather returned to the shop, deciding that she needed lunch and a good self mental evaluation. A part of her thought that all of that had been fun..._fun_...while the much saner (though also much smaller) part of her mind was screaming that it had been ridiculously illogical and impossible and she never ever wanted to see that man or his car ever again.

The rest of the day had gone by in an uneventful daze – tires, oil changes, an alternator replacement, nothing spectacular – and she went home at the end of the day, showered and climbed into bed.

Returning to work bright and early the next morning, the woman noted with some excitement, but a whole lot more alarm, the line up sitting outside the shop. A silver Corvette, a yellow Camaro and a silver Solstice. Pushing past her growing excitement/dread, Heather continued into the shop where she found Jason standing with a short stack of papers held up for her.

"Guess who came back?"

"No."

"Oh, yes he did. And you know what? Man's got deep pockets. He wants you, and only you, to service all of his vehicles. He says this is only the first round."

"NO!" Heather couldn't stop the smile that was splitting her face.

"Yep. Oh, and he also left this for you." Plopping another packet of papers on the counter, Jason gave them a deeply disapproving look. "I told him you were happy here...but I can't deny you the opportunity..."

"What opportunity?"

"He wants to take you on as an apprentice at his high security clearance, hush hush, off the grid shop."

"That doesn't sound shady at all..." Heather went to look over the papers, instantly spotting the very official government seals stamped into every page, right along with an emblem she didn't know that marked the 'shop' as the N.E.S.T. Repair Bay. "Holy shit, the government?"

"Yeah..."

"Jason...I don't want to leave you..."

"But you're going to. You can't pass up this opportunity."

Heather shook her head. She had never dreamed of leaving the shop she had spent the better part of the last three years in, still...

"Heather, please. Don't pretend, you want to go and you know what? I want you to go. You're a good mechanic and you deserve to take the opportunities that are given to you. Lets face it, this one is awesome and...well..."

"I'm a girl and there won't be many others?"

"I was trying to think of better words..."

"Jason, thank you."

"No problem. Just, promise you'll stop by once in a while. And you know we'll still be here if this," he handed her the stack of papers, the application, with an air of finality, "doesn't work out. You'll always be welcomed back, okay?"

"Right." She looked over the papers quickly before tucking them under her arm. "You know what? I have work to do." She took the work stack and with a smile she knew wouldn't be leaving her face all day, headed out into the shop to tend to Rick's other 'trouble' cars. "Should be an interesting day..."

* * *

><p>This was a oneshot of my own mind. I work in a shop - could you guess? - and I had a moment of far too amusing thoughts while working on a VERY NICE 79 Corvette. This is what happened. No, I do not intend to go on with this, it was just for fun and now it's done. Hope you enjoyed.<p> 


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